


Smudging Memories

by Skeren



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: F/M, Other, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 04:05:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5853415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There was more to the death of Maes Hughes than a simple murder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smudging Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Written August 2005.
> 
> Looking at the author notes I originally put on this thing, at the time I was _really really_ excited about this fic. Then again, I am one of those authors that likes to twist the emotional knife from time to time, so I suppose that just makes sense, really.

The kick of the gun was thrilling. 

It never failed to please him when a hunt went off without a hitch and his target fell where it had been struck. It was better when too rapid breaths were his reward instead of instant death, giving him time to enjoy what he’d accomplished properly. It allowed him to draw it out, to make the pain last. It was one of the few things he really found to be perfect. 

Dissolving the gun back into himself was simple, steel melding into delicate fingers. Certain that he didn’t have anything left to spoil the illusion he wished to portray, he walked closer to the fallen man whose eyes were fluttering half closed as he struggled to breathe. It was beautiful in a way only death could be. The blood from his lungs was staining his lips as he tried to speak, only furthering the blue tinge caused by the lack of oxygen to his system. 

“You shouldn’t try to talk, it will only shorten your life even more.” Kneeling next to him, Envy smoothed the skirt of his current form, lightly tanned fingers reaching over to brush the blood away as slowly glazing golden-green eyes stared back, trying to be defiant even in the face of his loved one, his wife. 

“No… not dying.” The wheeze was music to the sin’s ears, but he couldn’t really let the man continue talking, he might get it in his head that he was strong enough to leave. He didn’t want the man to realize that he had some chance to survive this encounter until it was much too late.

“Yes, you are. You were shot through the lung. It’s possible I might even have nicked your heart with that shot.” Shaking his head so the blond strands fell forward, he grinned widely, even though the voice he spoke in was comforting and soft. “I’m really sad to say you really will die. But don’t worry, I’ll make you feel better before you do. You were a good officer.”

Pleasing wasn’t even adequate to describe the feeling that rushed the homunculus when as he watched the man shake his head a little, denial flaring in golden green as the sin slid a cool hand between the undone buttons of his uniform. Pressing a hand over the wound, Envy changed it into a shape that would keep the fluid and air from leaving with each increasingly more difficult breath that the man took. He didn’t want his fun to be over too quickly. He certainly didn’t want to spoil the surprise either however, and that meant that the investigative crew couldn’t know what happened in his dying moments. Therefore, he couldn’t get his fun by taking the man, unfortunately, but if he stayed as he was and worked with what he had available- He was doing the man a favor.

The whispered ‘no’ that crossed the man’s bloodied lips was ignored in favor of tugging the material of his uniform pants down and away until his groin was easily accessible. The hands that were trying to impede his progress were a bit more bothersome, but they were weak, little strength behind the actions. There didn’t seem to be enough left for the man to be able to claw at him properly. Knowing he didn’t have enough time to do all that he wanted, he hurried to get the man arranged that he could do as he wished, just the essential of the idea. He had time enough for this. Perhaps not as much as he wished he had, but enough.

The lack of air combated the pain that might have hindered his designs as his fingers quickly worked to bring around an erection, one blue-green eye watching to make sure his victim didn’t pass out in the middle or die before he was finished. The point of this game was to ensure that nobody knew what happened, so while a hand job might be amusing, it was too messy. That meant that the eventual climax had to go somewhere. He paused for a moment to listen, entranced, to the agonized breathing of the man under him, the musical sound nearly distracting him until a jerk against his palm reminded him of his goal. The hand on the dying man’s lower hand lifted quickly, tugging up the skirt of the form he wore before returning to make straddling the man’s nearly spent erection a quicker task. The utter confusion on the man’s face was almost perfect, and he knew that the feel of him caused it. There was no way that the man’s beloved Gracia had ever felt nearly so cold against his skin as he did. 

He knew that the man was too far gone to really understand why he was panicking and that made the experience so much sweeter. Leaning down a little, he made a soft hushing sound that would have been soothing if it hadn’t come across as so satisfied. “Hush now Maes. Hush. You don’t want to have anyone notice do you?” 

The words froze the man, a confused noise leaving a dying throat as Envy moved around him, flexing the muscles of the imperfect replica he’d made of the man’s wife. It didn’t take much to pull the last moments of pleasure the man would ever feel out of him, some last vestige of adrenaline giving the gunshot victim the strength to do at least that much.

It also left him almost entirely gone, eyes fluttering while staring almost vacantly at the person who’d brought him to the state he currently found himself in. Just one last thing was needed to make this perfect, to make a dying man’s last living memory hell. He’d given the man something very sweet, and it would only take one little twist to utterly destroy that, turning the dazed, mostly dead glaze of his eyes to horror and shock. 

It was so very simple too. The last thing the man saw was his own little girl with tears in her eyes asking him ‘why?’

* * *

“Was that really needed?” Lust’s voice was low, cutting across the merry humming that Envy insisted on polluting the air with as he lounged out on a chair later that night, apparently too pleased with himself to care about the fact that the noise was utterly tuneless.

“Was _what_ really needed? I killed the man didn’t I? Hmm, you were sent to do that so clearly you can’t be talking about _that_.” Swinging a foot lazily, he tipped his head over the arm of the chair, dark strands brushing the floor. When he continued, his words were a purr. “So what could you _possibly_ mean?” 

“What you did at the end. That was cold, even for you.” She walked closer, her steps nearly silent on the stone floor under her feet. “You should have just killed him.”

“And miss out on something like that? But it was so _fun_. Really, you can’t say you wouldn’t have taken such an opportunity yourself.” The way he swung his feet up onto the other arm of the chair was taunting, the smirk never once wavering in the face of her displeasure. 

“I really doubt I would have. You aren’t even interested in sex so I don’t see what you could have gotten out of it.” Moving to lean against his chair, she made a point of standing on his hair. When he tried to sit up to look at her properly, he was met with resistance.

“Hey! Off the hair! And I got plenty out of it, so back off. I’m in too good of a mood to argue with you.” He tried to shove her off in counterpoint to his words, but she resisted, retaliating by spearing him through the chest, the action pinning him and causing him to grit his teeth by turns. She didn’t care if she was causing him pain at the moment; she was annoyed. “Off.”

“So you _are_ interested in sex. Why didn’t you say anything about that before?” Her tone was calm, the low edge still audible. She countered his attempt to remove her hand by twisting it, causing her to cut through the nodes on his back from the inside. When the action drew out a scream, she just waited patiently for it to die down into whimpers. “Don’t do that, just answer my question. It’s not a hard one and you’ve made me curious.”

The pained, slightly wet sounding breath he took to try and ease his pain made her smile, her temper easing a bit until his next words. “Never occurred to you that I wasn’t _interested_ in you, did it?”

“Oh, I see. You go for the more masculine sort do you? I suppose that only makes sense, considering your obsessions.” She twisted her hand a little further, drawing a high sound from him that might have been a scream as the action partially cut out one node. He’d looked like he was about to set in on some kind of rant on her. “What with the way you look at that little alchemist that you were assigned to keep tabs on as he moved around the country. That expression really isn’t one that means you want to _kill_ them I hope you realize.” 

He grabbed her wrist in his hands, nails digging harshly into the material around the node on her hand. She flinched over the pain, but that didn’t stop her from smiling in victory. In retaliation, she trailed a nail on her other hand over the three point mark on his forehead, more than pleased to retaliate for the foolish way he’d decided to snub her.

“Now now, I thought you liked attention.” Keeping her voice to an amused purr, she applied yet another twist before jerking her claws back. The action had mostly cut one node out of his body, and the lovely, pained noise it caused him to make in his throat was enough satisfaction for the insult to her person. For the moment anyway. “But apparently only from a certain few. I wonder what you liked more… being a woman, or screwing a man dead.”

When she turned and walked off, a smug smirk crossed her face. She could hear his curses and denials well into the other room.

* * *

The day of the funeral was one of the worst days that Roy had seen in years. It was sunny, hardly even a wisp of a cloud in the sky to pay homage to the death of his friend. He was quiet on the way there, soon attending the duties he’d chosen to undertake as a pallbearer, head bowed in deference to that choice.

The funeral itself tore at his heart. It was a blur mostly, sobs and anguish surrounding him as he tried to keep from showing emotion or overt grief for his fellow officer. Maes had gotten a promotion, he wasn’t sure he could forgive him that. Not yet, when it had cost the man his life to get there. 

There was a moment though, before the crowd left yet after the precise military lines had fallen to disarray… when he heard something that shouldn’t have chilled him like it did.

“The Brigadier General… He loved his family, didn’t he? I’m sure that the last thing he was thinking about was his wife and daughter. In fact, I bet his little girl was the last thing he ever saw.”

When he’d turned around, nobody was standing near him.


End file.
